


Bulletproof

by Nemi_Almasy



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, But make it fluff?, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Some rutseng too, Tsengrulena, Using characters as punching bags, Were these prompts not about sex......?, Whumptober 2020, and, everyone's a switch, tsengru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemi_Almasy/pseuds/Nemi_Almasy
Summary: Prompts for Whumptober 2020 featuring Tseng and Rufus (and some of the other Turks) in a variety of compromising situations. Each prompt will be its own "chapter" but all are unrelated 'plot' wise.
Relationships: Elena/Rufus Shinra/Tseng, Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 103
Kudos: 122
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Waking up Restrained

Rufus Shinra awoke to find himself completely naked with his hands bound with silk to the posts of his bed and, soft though the fabric was, the ties were tight enough that his wrists ached. That, he supposed, was his own fault: ‘ _As tight as you can possibly make it_ ’. In his defense, he didn’t imagine _this_ was how the situation would turn out. Was it his fault if he liked being tied up and choked from time to time? The last thing he remembered was a beautiful woman straddling his lap, breasts pressed against his chest while her handsome _well-hung_ friend tied Rufus’ arms to the bed.

They must have cast a sleep spell on him. He could just imagine Tseng’s face when he found him like this.

His phone was still on the nightstand, agonizingly close though he had no way of actually grabbing it to dial Tseng. He tried pulling against the binds to press any bit of skin that would reach only to fall short every time. His binds were too tight, digging into his wrists as he struggled. Shifting gears, he tried pulling as hard as he could, hoping the silk might somehow break and knowing it wouldn’t.

In the end he fell against the bed, sweaty and breathless and nowhere closer to getting help. That was when the door opened.

“Sir,” Tseng stood tall and looming in the doorway, eyes scanning every inch of the room, then every inch of Rufus’s body. “Do you require any assistance?”

“Tseng,” Rufus huffed. “How did you know?” The Turks often had a preternatural sense for knowing when Rufus was in danger, aided - he was sure - by the amount of times he put himself in danger, accidentally or otherwise.

Tseng smirked. “Did you forget about the security cameras?”

In fact, he frequently forgot about them, but it was reassuring to know the Turks always had an eye on them. “Did you see their faces?” Rufus asked.

“The others are already on their trail. You had me worried when we checked the security feed and you never left your room, but when I arrived it sounded like perhaps you were in the middle of something I shouldn’t interrupt.” Tseng moved to the end of the bed and stared at Rufus. “Now I see what the problem was. Where did you pick up these gems?”

“Somewhere I shouldn’t have been, of course,” Rufus conceded. “What were they after?”

“Just petty thieves,” Tseng answered. “They absconded with a number of expensive watches and your original Hendecker painting.” Rufus bristled at this. “No need to worry, sir, we’ll bring your possessions back in one piece. I can’t promise the same about your friends.”

“Fine. Are you going to untie me?”

“Should I?” Tseng asked, his voice taking on a husky timbre as he arched his eyebrows and rested one knee on the end of the bed.

And though Rufus’ wrists were aching from the binds, he grinned and answered, “Maybe not right away.”


	2. Kidnapped

“I won’t ask you again, Turk. Where’s the president?”

A gloved hand gripped Tseng’s throat, squeezing until it cut off his airflow and his vision swam. It was far from the worst he’d received since he awoke some hours earlier in a dank, windowless room with binds around his feet and legs and he knew for a fact the hand around his throat would release him as soon as he fainted. So why say anything?

As it turned out, his captor released his hold on him far sooner and he gulped in as much air as he could. Thus far, the ‘torture’, if it could be called that, had mostly been brute physical force unleashed on his body by the two men holding him captive. It was insulting that they had managed to capture him when all they seemed capable of was beating him and screaming in his face to try and posit Rufus’ location. As if Tseng, who had been through hell and back for Rufus Shinra, had nearly died for him, and had otherwise spent the last decade of his life loyally devoted to him would break so easily?

They caught him in a moment of weakness. Perhaps foolishly, he had allowed himself a few glasses of wine in the privacy of Rufus’ company, then wandered off for a walk to get some fresh air after Rufus turned in. It was out in the fields, along the road toward Edge that they overwhelmed him. Rufus was already asleep - it could be hours before anyone knew Tseng was missing.

“Where the fuck is the President?” His captor demanded again.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t ask again,” Tseng replied coolly. This earned him a punch to the mouth that left him flexing his jaw painfully.

If they wanted information so badly, they should have picked Reno to kidnap. It wasn’t that Reno was disloyal - far from it - he just tended to run at the mouth in most situations, but especially when he was nervous. They still wouldn’t have gotten Rufus’ location out of him, but he would have given them more than Tseng would ever give.

He recalled a fight with Rufus some years earlier, ‘ _It’s like getting blood from a stone trying to get you to open up to me! Shiva’s tits Tseng, I’m not interrogating you._ ’ He chuckled at the thought.

“What the fuck you laughing at, Turk?”

Outside of wherever it was they were holding him, amidst the dull sound of crickets chirping, someone let out a long, sharp whistle.

“Do you want to know where the President is?” Tseng whispered.

“What did you say?”

“Come closer. I’ll tell you.”

Tseng struggled to sit up fully. Reluctantly, his captor bent down and leaned in close. At the same time, a gunshot rang out loud and clear upstairs and then the door flew open.

Tseng smiled and leaned back with a contented sigh as a shotgun shell blew open the back of his captor’s head.

“There he is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like to turn the ol' "Rufus is always getting kidnapped and the Turks are always saving him" thing on its head and let Tseng play damsel in distress this time. These prompts are super fun. I've been using them to warmup before working on longer fics, though I think I'm not making them as angsty or gruesome as some of my fellow Shinrafuckers. Happy Whumptober!


	3. Forced to their Knees

Rufus looked appraisingly at Tseng, stood before him with his hands bound, awaiting judgment with the same cool exterior he always presented. In fact, Rufus had witnessed Tseng in plenty of high-stakes scenarios where he remained as stoic as he looked now, entirely unreadable. This was a trait that inspired both admiration and frustration in Rufus in equal measures.

“Well?” Rufus asked. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Tseng stared at him wordlessly, those beautiful brown eyes of his boring a hole through Rufus.

“No defense for your crimes?” Rufus continued, gripping Tseng’s chin tightly and brushing his thumb lightly against his skin. He was subsequently pleased with the imperceptible shiver this elicited. “If you don’t have anything to say,” said Rufus, gripping Tseng’s shoulder tightly, “Then get on your knees and beg my forgiveness.”

He forced Tseng to his knees with a firm push, putting him eye level with Rufus’ groin.

“ _Oof,_ ” Tseng groaned as he hit the floor harder than either of them anticipated.

“Did that hurt, _Turk_?” Rufus snarled.

“It did actually,” said Tseng, breaking from the moment entirely to rub at his knee with his bound hands.

Rufus pouted and folded his arms. “You’re ruining the immersion.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t shove me so hard next time.”

“Shiva’s tits, you’re a Turk. Do you do this when someone’s _actually_ intimidating you?”

“No, but I’m not the one who likes to be pushed around during sex,” Tseng bit back. “I’m going to have a bruise on my knees tomorrow.”

Rufus sighed dramatically. “Hardly the first bruise I’ve ever given you. Can we continue or do you need me to kiss your booboo to make it feel better?”

“Funny coming from someone who begs to be coddled.”

“I do not!” Rufus protested, though he realized how whiny he sounded too late.

Tseng laughed. “Maybe not with the others. But around the apartment it’s all you do. ‘Tseng, I’m cold come cuddle me’, ‘Tseng, I gave myself a papercut and now I’m dying’, ‘Tseng, I stubbed my toe come carry me to the bedroom’.”

“I thought we were supposed to be having fun,” Rufus growled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Tseng straightened his posture and shuffled closer, making a point of wincing as his knees slid across the floor, which earned him an eye-roll from Rufus. “Continue.”

Rufus ran his fingers through Tseng’s hair and gripped it tightly at the base of his skull. A breathless moan left Tseng’s throat: a sound Rufus enjoyed more than any other. “As I was saying,” Rufus said, lowering the pitch of his voice, “Why don’t you show me you’re sorry for what you’ve done.”

Still clutching Tseng’s hair in one hand, Rufus unzipped his pants and gripped his cock in the other hand. He wasn’t totally hard thanks in large part to their brief argument. When he urged Tseng’ closer with a firm push at the back of his head, Tseng ran his tongue along the length of Rufus’ cock, pressing his lips against the head and quickly rectifying any issues Rufus was having.

“Tell me what you want,” Rufus purred.

Tseng frowned. Rufus knew he didn’t enjoy participating in dirty talk, though he never minded how lewd Rufus could get. It embarrassed Tseng immensely to be made to say the word ‘cock’ out loud in the middle of sex and, unfortunately for him, it delighted Rufus to hear it.

“Do I have to?” Tseng sighed.

“Don’t ruin it again.”

Another sigh. “What did you want me to say again?”

“Gods, Tseng, it’s not rocket science.”

“Fine,” said Tseng, “I want your cock.”

Rufus pouted once more. “Could you say it like the idea doesn’t totally repulse you?”

“ _Rufus_ ,” Tseng’s voice took on a suddenly stern tone. “If I didn’t like sucking your dick I wouldn’t do it so often. Now are you going to put your cock in my mouth or not?”

Rufus laughed. “Good enough.”

He guided his cock into Tseng’s mouth and gently held Tseng’s face and head while Tseng went to work, hollowing his cheeks as he apparently attempted to suck Rufus’ soul out of his body. Rufus resisted the urge to close his eyes, instead holding Tseng’s gaze, simultaneously overwhelmed by the physical pleasure of Tseng’s hot mouth moving against him and the emotional intimacy of the moment.

“ _Ah_ ,” he gasped, “Tseng… _fuck_ …”

Tseng’s breath came heavy through his nose as he moved, and he too held Rufus’ gaze with a look of unabashed adoration. Rufus stroked Tseng’s cheek with his thumb as the pleasure mounted in his body and kept his eyes locked on Tseng’s until the moment his orgasm hit and then his eyes squeezed shut, his cock throbbing and a low groan leaving his throat of its own accord.

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted.

Tseng sat back on his knees and somehow managed to undo his binds, though Rufus thought he had done a pretty good job of tying him up. That was a Turk for you, Rufus supposed.

“You always say that after you’ve cum,” said Tseng matter-of-factly. “Just the post-orgasmic hormone rush.”

Rufus sighed. “Such a romantic.”

“Well, I just think it means more when you say it at other times.” He stood up and pressed his lips softly against Rufus’. “But I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like I said, angst? don't know her. just cute silly fluff and smut here.


	4. Collapsed Building

The first thing Tseng saw when he returned to Midgar - against the doctor’s orders, against Veld’s wishes, against all common sense - was Shinra Tower half caved in on itself, smoking still rising from the rubble.

Chaos reigned in the streets, gale-force winds ripping through the city, sheets of rain and hail, while above meteor loomed down so close Tseng was sure he could feel the heat radiating from it. Veld took the other Turks, their old comrades, to scour the city and aid in the evacuation while Tseng made his way to straight to the heart of the city.

Most people ignored him, moving against the flow of traffic. They were trying to get as far from the epicenter of this disaster as possible. An elderly woman stopped him, gripping his arm and tugging gently on his sleeve. “Sir, it’s not safe that way, it’s unstable-” her warning cut short when she realized she was addressing a Turk.

Her eyes said clearly what her voice didn’t finish, “Go ahead and die for Shinra, then. It’s what you deserve.”

Tseng had no way of knowing if Rufus was inside the remains of the tower - he had been cut off from all communication, languishing in a coma in Junon for weeks. Rufus and the others surely thought he was dead, part of Veld’s secrecy to give him the choice to walk away from his ties to Shinra.

Veld didn’t know that Tseng’s loyalty had not been with the company for many years; rather, he was loyal to Rufus Shinra in whatever capacity Rufus would have him.

It didn’t make sense for him to be inside that building - Reno and Rude should have evacuated him - but Tseng still knew in his gut that Rufus was there. That Rufus would have died before he let anyone or anything take his city.

Tseng struggled through the front entrance with the aid of a cane given to him by Dr. Eugene, broken glass crunching under his shoes, the windows of the lobby blown in by the blast that had taken out the top half of the tower. There were bodies lined up in a row behind the information desk and a handful of stragglers who had stayed behind to help search the rubble.

He found Reno, Rude, and Elena several stories up and it was Reno who choked out the words Tseng had hoped not to hear.

“He was in his office when the blast hit.”

“Have you searched the area?” Tseng asked.

Elena shook her head, “It’s too dangerous. There’s no access past the fiftieth floor. Some people are saying the building could collapse in on itself at any minute with the weather and meteor…” She trailed off and looked away from Tseng, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t know how he could have survived something like that.”

If anyone could survive, it was Rufus.

“I want you to scour every floor. Check the basement levels. There may have been an emergency escape route.”

Tseng knew Rufus well, better than anyone else on the planet, and Rufus _always_ made contingency plans. The only problem was that Rufus had not been the one to design Shinra Tower, and he had not been in power long enough to make any major changes. His father lacked the foresight Rufus had.

Still, they couldn’t leave him for dead. They couldn’t assume. And if he was alive somewhere in that mess and they failed to find him, if injuries or starvation or meteor didn’t take him, the eventual angry mobs would. They needed someone to blame for this, even if all Rufus had done since taking office was try to save all of them.

Tseng could barely hold himself up, the line ripped across his torso aching with every movement, little pinpricks of blood coloring his shirt as his stitches threatened to rip open. While Reno and Rude searched the lower levels, he worked alongside Elena as best as he could, hoping that behind some unturned piece of rubble they might find Rufus still breathing.

“Sir,” Elena said, placing a hand on his arm. “I think you need to rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Tseng bit back, recognizing how harsh it sounded but too sick with worry to care.

“Please, sir,” she was more insistent now, forcing him onto a bench outside a row of offices. “You’re bleeding.”

Tseng’s torso burned along the line of his wound and once he was seated he found it was too difficult to stand back up. A familiar fatigue settled over him as the wind whistled outside, the sort of weariness he felt on the steps of the temple, splayed open and bleeding out. He could close his eyes…he could finally rest…maybe Rufus would be waiting for him in the lifestream.

The ringing of his phone roused him and he struggled with sluggish fingers to withdraw it from his pocket. “Reno.”

“Chief,” his voice sounded, breathless, on the other end. “We found him.”

It took Elena’s help to get back up, to make their way down to the lobby where they found Rude and Reno knelt next to a stretcher awaiting assistance from a team of Shinra paramedics. Tseng’s knees buckled, whether from weakness or relief he couldn’t say, and he fell beside the stretcher and grasped a pale hand in his.

“Rufus.”

It was surely the first time he had called him by his name in front of their subordinates. Rufus’ eyelids were heavy and Tseng inhaled sharply as he turned his face toward him, revealing a bloody pulp where his left eye had been. Tseng squeezed his hand, amazed at the twitch of Rufus’ lips into the faintest hint of a smile despite all this.

“Tseng?”

“Yes. It’s me. I’m here.”

Rufus sighed and closed his eyes. “Good.” His fingers curled around Tseng’s in a weak grasp. “We’ll be okay.”

And he said it with such finality that Tseng knew it must be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay finally a slightly angsty one but I'm not good at sad endings so it had to end on a positive note


	5. Failed Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay sorry for this one because it's actually sad

Being a Turk meant Tseng was intimately familiar with the iron stench of blood, the way it could linger in his nostrils after a kill, but he couldn’t recall the smell ever being quite this intense. Smeared across the stone behind him in a long trail, he couldn’t fathom how he carried himself all that way, dragging himself on elbows and knees to collapse at the entrance of the temple.

Had he ever felt this fatigued in his life? The weariness ached down into his bones and only when his hand came to rest against his chest, encountering heat and blood and viscera where his skin should have been, did he rouse partially from his stupor.

Elena was already on her way back to the helicopter. He was going to die here alone on the steps of the temple, so close he could see the helicopter waiting in the distance.

With weak, clumsy hands he found his phone and tried to dial Rufus, but his vision was blurring, going dark at the edges. By now he had lost so much blood that his body was going into shock. He couldn’t feel much of anything but a dull ache and desperate desire to sleep.

“ _Rufus…_ ”

“Tseng!”

For a moment his pain-addled brain thought it was him, but how would have come to this place? Then soft hands, far softer than Rufus’, clasped around his own and he saw her, face framed in light.

“Aerith…?”

Was she…crying?

“What happened to you?”

“Sephiroth,” Tseng managed to say. “He’s not…not after the Promised Land…”

“Oh, Tseng,” Aerith’s voice quavered. She pressed her palms against the wound spanning Tseng’s chest, but her restore materia did little to touch the injuries. “Oh it’s a mess…Tseng…” he hands were stained with his blood now.

“Aerith,” a firm voice behind her. Maybe Cloud.

“We can’t just leave him!”

Tseng closed his eyes. It was becoming harder to breathe. “Aerith…tell Rufus…”

“Don’t…don’t try to speak.”

“Tell him…” A rattling breath escaped his chest. What did he want her to tell him? It seemed urgent at first, but now he couldn’t think straight. “The President was wrong. He’s not…”

Aerith’s cool hand pressed against his forehead. “Shh. It’s okay.”

“There’s nothing we can do for him,” another woman’s voice spoke.

He couldn’t open his eyes anymore. Aerith’s lips pressed against his cheek. She sniffled loudly as she released him.

“Just rest now, Tseng.”

Their footsteps sounded on the stone as they left him there. They had an important task ahead of them and Tseng understood and accepted they couldn’t wait around for him to die. His breathing slowed, a numbness washing over him, so close to finding the peace he now desperately craved.

_Tell Rufus…I love him. I never got the chance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry UWU


	6. Get it Out

“Get it OUT!”

Reno stopped dead in his tracks just outside the door to the Turks’ shared office at the sound of Rufus Shinra’s cry, whining and desperate. The Vice President had meetings with the chief from time to time, but Reno got the sinking suspicion he was about to walk in on something that _really_ wasn’t his business. Being a relentless gossip, this only spurred him to press his ear against the door and keep listening.

“If you would stop yelling I could get it out,” Tseng sighed. “Besides, I thought you liked them.”

“Well I don’t like this one!” Rufus bit back. He sounded like he was in pain. “It’s fucking huge.”

Tseng groaned. “It’s not that big. You’re being dramatic. Hold still and be quiet.”

“Oh Gods…” Rufus gasped. “It’s vibrating. Is it supposed to vibrate?”

“How should I know?”

Reno desperately wished there was a window into the office so he could peek inside and see what the hell was going on. In the interim, his mind was filling in the gaps with some truly heinous images. He had long suspected the chief and the VP were involved somehow. The way they looked at each other across the table at board meetings could only be described as lewd for someone as good at reading people as Reno was. He had a long-standing bet with Rude about the nature of their relationship, but Rude refused to pay up without proof.

Maybe, Reno thought, he ought to record this little conversation.

“Shiva’s tits, Tseng! Just get it out already!”

On the other side of the door something crashed against the floor, and then both men were shouting. A lot of ‘stop moving!’ from Tseng and ‘Just do it!’ from Rufus, a little grunting and panting, a gasp of surprise, either a moan of pleasure or a groan of pain from Rufus (Reno couldn’t quite be sure).

“AH! AH!” Rufus shouted. “TSENG!”

Tseng responded, breathless, “I’ve almost got it.”

“It’s vibrating again! Oh, I hate it…”

What the _fuck_ were they doing in there?

The door flew open quite suddenly and Reno, still leaning against it as it swung inward, stumbled forward through the doorway in time for a very large, _very angry_ bat to fly directly into his face. It clawed at his face and he flailed his arms.

“GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!”

He managed to get hold of it, flinging it into the hallway where it flew around shrieking until it was out of sight.

“Reno,” Tseng stood over him with a stern frown.

Reno stared at him upside down. “Hey, chief.”

“Were you eavesdropping, Reno?” asked Rufus, now seated casually on the couch as though half of the office wasn’t in ruins from two men trying to corral a bat out of it.

Reno’s face flushed. “Well…the way it sounded…uh…it sounded like.”

“Like _what_ , Reno?” Rufus smirked.

“I thought Tseng was trying to pull something out of your a-”

“RENO. OUT!” Tseng growled.

Reno scrambled up and toward the elevator so quickly he left scorch marks on the carpet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little levity after yesterday's sad :) "Misunderstood overheard conversations" are my FAVORITE trope.


	7. I've Got You

Rufus awoke one morning to find his legs lacking the strength they needed to carry him. He knew the day would come sooner or later. Since the blast he had relied on a cane to aid him, walking with a pronounced and likely permanent limp as the result of severe nerve damage to his left leg. As the stigma took hold of him, it ate away at the muscle in his limbs until there were days when he could barely get himself out of bed.

The doctor told him eventually he would need a wheelchair, but he was stubborn and prideful and if he couldn’t control anything else in his life, he could at least try to control this.

He should have known that this too was outside of his control.

Knowing from the moment he placed his feet on the ground as he sat up in bed that he wouldn’t make it far, he grabbed his cane and made an attempt anyway, collapsing in the doorway to the bathroom and realizing that his arms had grown nearly as weak as his legs.

_Look where your pride has led you, Rufus._

Usually, Tseng was in bed with him, but Rufus knew he had volunteered for breakfast duty that morning and was busy feeding the residents of the lodge. Rufus tried to right himself and stand again, but the more attempts he made the weaker he grew until he fell against the door frame with a cry of frustration.

“Tseng,” He cried. “TSENG! _TSENG! Please_ …” He was vaguely aware of tears rolling down his cheek, but they were more out of anger than anything else.

It wasn’t Tseng who arrived a moment later, hovering in the doorway wearing a look of concern, but Elena.

“Sir,” she gasped at the sight of him scrambling against the floor. “What happened?”

“Elena,” he looked away from her, suddenly ashamed of the state he was in.

No one saw him like this but Tseng. The others might occasionally help tend to his bandages, but he braced himself for that, holding his body rigid and straight and putting on the sort of stoic face Tseng often wore in mixed company. He also knew less about Elena than the others. She hadn’t been there during his prolonged house arrest with the Turks, had only joined the Turks shortly before he became President. Rufus didn’t know her well at all, but she took after Tseng in her dedication and severity and that endeared her to him.

“Let me help you,” she said, bending down and tucking her arm under his legs, lifting him as though he weighed nothing. “I’ve got you, sir.”

He let her carry him back to the bed, helping him to sit up against the headrest.

“Should I call for the chief?” she asked.

He knew that Elena, Reno, and Rude were not naive about the nature of Tseng and Rufus’ relationship, but they danced around the topic with a subtlety only Turks could.

“No,” Rufus sighed. “No, don’t worry him with this.”

Elena’s brow furrowed. They both knew Tseng would be upset when he found out what happened and that he hadn’t been immediately notified.

“Sir-”

“Elena,” Rufus interrupted her. “Why don’t you stay here with me until Tseng is done with his work?”

He patted her hand and gestured to the chair next to the bed, which was too often occupied by Tseng during sleepless nights. Elena sat down reluctantly.

“Can I do anything for you, sir?” She asked. “Can I get you anything?”

Rufus closed his eyes. “No. I’ll be okay. Tseng often talks to me when I’m trying not to think about the stigma,” he told her. “Why don’t you talk to me?”

Elena cleared her throat. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Tell me about yourself,” he said. “Start from the beginning.”

He listened while she told him about herself, her voice anxious and uncertain at first, but giving way to enthusiasm as she recalled besting Tseng in a hand-to-hand match as part of her interview. Rufus kept his eyes closed, nodding or humming encouragingly for her to continue, pleased with anything that could keep his mind off of his mounting pain.

And for all he had lost after Meteor fall, he couldn’t help but be grateful for what he still had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice little Rufus and Elena moment because I like exploring their relationship and thanks to twitter I'm riding hard on the Tsengrulena train.


	8. Don't Say Goodbye

“I’ve been thinking,” said Rufus, leaning over Tseng, one hand resting on his chest while the other ran slowly along his scalp and through his hair.

Tseng closed his eyes and hummed, “Careful. You might hurt yourself.”

Rufus snorted, “And here I was about to let myself get sentimental with you.”

Tseng clasped his hand over Rufus’ where it rested against his chest. “Go on.”

“I think maybe someone else should go with Elena tomorrow. Reno’s your second in command, isn’t he? Send him. You can come with me instead.”

Tseng opened his eyes and met Rufus’ gaze, brows knitted in concern, a worry in his eyes Tseng had never quite seen before. This little tryst of theirs had begun several months earlier. ‘Something casual’ had been the agreement - a way to release steam when they were both too busy to find other outlets. They didn’t talk about what it had become since then: how many nights Tseng wound up sleeping alongside Rufus, many times without even having sex, falling asleep in each other’s arms completely clothed. Tseng knew what he felt deep within his breast, but he would _never_ risk the shame of admitting it out loud to someone who might not return his affection.

“It’s my job to do this for you,” he reminded Rufus. “I trust my employees more than anyone else on the planet, but this mission is too important. Someone else could get it wrong. It has to be me.”

Rufus fell onto his back with a sigh. “I just have this horrible feeling about it.”

“Why?” asked Tseng, rolling onto his side to face him. “I know it’s higher stakes than what we’re used to, but I have faith in my abilities.”

“I’m not saying I don’t,” Rufus said. “I just…I can’t explain it. I think about you leaving for that place and it fills me with this horrible dread. Like an icy hand has taken hold of my heart. I…” He shook his head. “I know it doesn’t make any sense.”

But Tseng understood, perhaps better than most. The planet had a way of speaking to people. Maybe not literally, but he had spent enough time watching over someone capable of hearing the planet’s cries to think he had become attuned, if only a little, to the moods of the lifestream. He recognized how insane it sounded trying to give voice to that, but Aerith had taught him many things and one of them was how to still himself and listen… _really_ listen. Maybe Rufus heard it in a moment of his own meditation.

Tseng didn’t believe in false promises, even if they were meant to soothe frayed nerves. He wanted to say ‘I’ll be fine’, but he could never truly promise that to Rufus in his line of work.

“Don’t worry yourself over it,” he said. “I’ll report in as soon as the mission is complete.”

But both of them spent the rest of the night restless. In the morning, Tseng dressed while Rufus still lay sleeping and though he knew Rufus hadn’t slept well, he couldn’t stop himself from risking waking him by planting a soft kiss against his forehead.

His eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at Tseng. “Leaving?” he asked.

“Yes. I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

Rufus shook his head. “Don’t say goodbye.” He clasped Tseng’s hand. “You’ll come back, won’t you?”

And for the first time in a very long time, Tseng made a promise he wasn’t certain he could keep. “I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whump whump. Also Tseng's "someone else could get it wrong" is a little baby reference to Mordin's goodbye speech in Mass Effect for anyone familiar. you're welcome and I'm sorry.


	9. Take Me Instead

Tseng had hardened himself to the idea of ever allowing love into his heart. It was a gradual reckoning - the realization that his career could not allow for the vulnerability that came with love. It was easy, frighteningly so, to discard his connection to his family, to wrap his heart in armor and make the decision to never allow anyone close enough to risk caring about them deeply enough for them to be a liability.

What Tseng failed to plan for was that in the absence of blood relatives, who had always only tolerated him at best anyway, families form all the same. He became singularly dedicated to Veld and whether he would acknowledge it or not, Veld became a sort of surrogate father to him, teaching him far more than just how to be an effective Turk. When Veld abandoned the Turks for his own flesh and blood, something Tseng couldn’t really fault him for even if he found the situation absurd, a new family sprung in his wake.

The Turks had only one another to rely on.

Somehow Rufus Shinra wormed his way into the fold as well, refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer when faced with an ostensibly cold and uncaring captor. Tseng was never aware of his walls being broken down - he just awoke one day to find a family and love where he had been bound and determined to prevent either from growing.

And, as he always knew it would, they became his vulnerability.

He knelt on the cold marble of the presidential office sporting cuts and bruises given to him by brutish and unskilled interrogators under Heidegger’s direction. Before him, the President sat behind his desk with Heidegger and Scarlet on either side of him.

“Have you anything to say for yourself, Turk?” Heidegger demanded.

Tseng stared back defiantly. “I did what you asked. Veld is dead. Was that not a good enough show of my loyalty?”

“A better show would have been keeping your nose where it belonged and not stepping out of line,” Scarlet said, crossing her arms and glowering at him.

Tseng didn’t particularly care what they decided to do to him, but he didn’t want Reno and Rude to suffer.

“Take me,” Tseng said. “If you need an execution, then take me and make an example of me, but let my men go. They were only acting under my orders.”

It was a lie, of course. They all wanted to save Veld. Reno and Rude were just in too deep to escape with the others when it became evident Shinra was going to hunt them all down for aiding an enemy of the state.

“You’d be willing to sacrifice yourself to save them, eh?” The President chuckled. “Such misplaced loyalty.”

What did the President know of loyalty?

“If you want to kill him, you’ll have to go through me first.”

Tseng craned his neck to find Rufus Shinra in the doorway to the office, the light of the hallway beyond casting him in a silhouette. He marched across the room as though he owned it, which Tseng supposed he would one day, stopping next to Tseng and fixing his father and the executives with a furious stare.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Rufus?” the President barked.

“This man already proved his loyalty to you. Would you really waste the life of someone Shinra invested so much time and money into? I won’t have it. If you want to make a show of executing him, you’ll have to kill me first.”

The President scoffed. “Stop being so dramatic.” He looked to the executives, who were both stumbling over each other to explain why they ought to kill Tseng anyway when he silenced them with a raise of his hand. “Fine. We need a few Turks around to keep things running smoothly and they _did_ kill Veld. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

Rufus helped Tseng to his feet and out the door. Only once they were in the elevator did he coo and fuss over Tseng’s wounds.

“I’m fine. _Rufus._ I’m fine, really.”

“I tried to get here sooner,” he said. “I’m only glad I wasn’t too late.”

“And Reno and Rude?”

“I already got them out of the interrogation cells. They’re down in your office.”

“Thank you,” Tseng said.

Rufus cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil soft and cheesy. This whumptober is a rollercoaster ride.


	10. Bleeding Out

Elena was the one to take control of the situation without any input from Tseng. She hadn’t been a rookie for a long time and Tseng deferred to her often enough in their day-to-day at the lodge. In a high-stakes situation like this one, it filled him with a sense of pride to see her make the decisions he himself had trouble making at her age - that sense of pride buried underneath the immediate danger they were in.

“ELENA!” It was Rude who yelled to her from the side of the helicopter as she ran the remains to him.

“Go!” She shoved the remains into Rude’s hands and slammed the side door shut before Rude could protest. “Get the fuck out of here, Reno.”

Reno was second-in-command for a reason. He didn’t wait for a second order, pulling the helicopter up out of the crater as their assailants fired on them.

Tseng was too busy locked in battle with two of these…things…these boys…these shapeshifters. They had seen them before at the Icicle Village a few weeks earlier and when they appeared suddenly within the North Crater, Tseng felt in his gut he wouldn’t be returning to the lodge alive.

Two highly-skilled operatives - Shinra’s greatest remaining weapons, one of them with seventeen years of experience under his belt - and they couldn’t outmatch these things masquerading as teenage boys. Tseng went down first while Elena hovered protectively by his body. The leader of the group had managed a shot to his gut, and the one with the gloves had battered his face. Blood pooled beneath him and stained his clothes. It felt like he was reliving the temple all over again.

“Tseng,” Elena fell against him, gasping, blood flowing from a wound at the top of her head, blossoming on her shirt from an unseen wound beneath. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Tseng didn’t tell Elena that she was covered in it herself, not least of all because he could barely move now. The three shapeshifters encroached on them, issuing demands for their mother. It made the hair rise on Tseng’s arms. They were cheap imitations of the real thing, but the damage they had done was just as severe.

“Do you think…” Elena clutched at her gut and slumped down fully against Tseng’s side. “Do you think he’s proud of us?”

The thought of how Rufus might react to the news of their demise - and it was inevitable now - filled Tseng with an unbearable grief. They planned for this eventuality. They all knew old age and a peaceful retirement weren’t in the books for a Turk.

“We succeeded in our mission,” said Tseng, placing his hand over top of Elena’s where she pressed tightly against the wound in her gut. “That’s all he ever asked of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:) And yes that is implied Tsengrulena


	11. Defiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's horny folks

“Hold _still_ ,” Tseng grumbled, fastening a length of silk around Rufus’ arms and tying it as taut as he could. Between his legs beneath him, Rufus Shinra squirmed and struggled against the bindings, arching his back and grinding his hips against Tseng’s ass. “You’re so impatient.”

“I’m not impatient, you’re being deliberately slow," Rufus protested.

Tseng took Rufus’ other arm in a firm grip and took his time fastening another length of silk around it. Both binds were anchored to the bedposts and when he was finished - he _was_ being deliberately slow - Rufus was stretched between the two sides of the bed, completely naked, fully erect, and fixing Tseng with an irritated frown. Tseng sat back, still fully clothed, and laughed.

“Something on your mind?”

“ _Tseng,_ ” Rufus whined. “I asked you to tie me up, I didn’t ask you to take ten fucking years to do it.”

“We talked about this,” said Tseng, kneeling by Rufus’ side and running the flat of his palm along his chest. “You said you wanted me to be in charge. It’s not my fault you’re impatient.”

Rufus bent toward Tseng’s touch. “Well I am. I changed my mind. Hurry up and take your clothes off.”

Tseng gripped Rufus’ chin, “I don’t like your tone.”

Usually in these situations, Tseng was the bad actor. Sex before Rufus had been a formulaic, often transactional means to an end and as a result Tseng was not particularly good at role-playing. He may have lied for a living as a spy, but in the intimate setting of the bedroom, Rufus usually had to lead him to say whatever lewd thing it was he wanted him to say.

The way Rufus’ eyes lit up when Tseng reprimanded him gave him away and it almost made Tseng laugh. But they were playing a game - he wanted to have a little fun with it before he gave up the act entirely.

“Are you done complaining?” Tseng asked.

Rufus seemed to consider how he wanted to respond, opting in true Rufus Shinra form, to go the defiant route.

“ _No_ ,” he said. “I want you to fuck me right now.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to tie a gag around that pretty little mouth of yours,” Tseng told him, tracing his thumb against Rufus’ bottom lip.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Tseng leaned forward and pressed his lips against Rufus’ collarbone. Rufus moaned and pulled against his binds, clearly annoyed he couldn’t reach out to touch Tseng, who was ignoring his frustration entirely. Tseng kissed across his chest and nipped at his skin as he moved, drawing some truly unsavory noises out of Rufus’ throat.

“ _Tse-ee-eng_ ,” Rufus whined more insistently. “ _Please._ ”

Brushing his nose against Rufus’, Tseng parted his lips but refused to meet Rufus in a kiss. Instead, he gripped Rufus’ hair and yanked until Rufus groaned.

“I’m in charge right now. I want you to call me sir.”

Rufus’ eyes flashed and he tried to shift his body toward Tseng’s. “ _Make me._ ” He growled.

Tseng smiled and slid off of the bed, leaving Rufus twisting and pulling against his binds, grunting in frustration, calling out Tseng’s name while Tseng pulled several items from a drawer in his nightstand. Once he had everything he wanted, he sat at the end of the bed and gripped Rufus’ hips. Rufus held his legs up and pulled once more at his binds, fists clenching and unclenching.

“I want to touch you,” he gasped.

“No,” Tseng replied. He popped open a bottle of lube and slicked his finger up while Rufus watched him, eyes glazing over. “You won’t get anything you want with that bad attitude of yours.”

He leaned forward and ran one hand along the inside of Rufus’ thigh while he slid a finger inside of him. Rufus groaned and bucked his hips as Tseng’s hand ghosted over his cock.

“Shiva’s tits, Tseng, you’re killing me.”

Tseng slid a second finger inside of Rufus and slowly pumped in a steady rhythm. He kissed the inside of Rufus’ leg. “I asked you to call me sir.”

Rufus panted and gasped beneath him, eyelids fluttering, struggling to contort himself in any way that would get his cock into Tseng’s hand.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Rufus moaned. “ _Please._ ”

“Please what?” Tseng asked.

“Please, Tseng.”

“You aren’t listening,” Tseng withdrew his hands entirely and Rufus fell back against the bed with a sigh of frustration. He lifted his head and looked at Tseng with such a longing in his eyes that Tseng almost broke character entirely, overcome with a desire to smother his body in affection. That was undoubtedly the intended affect of the look, even if Rufus probably wasn’t thinking entirely with his brain. “That trick won’t work on me,” Tseng warned.

He picked up the second item he had taken from the nightstand, a beautiful little vibrating plug. He switched it on and Rufus’ eyes locked onto it with a laser focus. Slicking it up with some lube, Tseng leaned down and slid it inside of Rufus as slowly as he could, watching with a flutter in his chest as Rufus’ face contorted in pleasure, a wordless moan leaving his throat.

“Tell me what you want, Rufus,” said Tseng.

Rufus breath was ragged. He looked up at Tseng with half-closed eyes, lips parted. “I want you… _sir_.”

That was enough for Tseng. He unzipped his pants, shoving them around his ankles, too impatient to remove them entirely. Heat had been slowly pooling between his legs while he tortured Rufus with this little game and now he was done playing. He climbed on top of Rufus and kissed him while he took both of their cocks in hand and pressed them together, thrusting his hips and pumping his hand against them.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Rufus hissed through clenched teeth. He thrust into Tseng’s grip, the head of his cock sliding against Tseng’s and sending a shock of pleasure through his body. “ _Yes! Yes! Don’t stop!_ ”

Tseng buried his face in the crook of Rufus’ neck, nipping and kissing at his skin as their cocks glided against each other. Rufus was, unsurprisingly, first to reach his peak, throwing his head back as a moan turned into a shout in his throat. He came all over Tseng’s hand, their cocks slick with it and Tseng was quick to follow, panting and moaning against Rufus’ skin as his movement slowed to a halt. He rested heavily against Rufus, both of them gasping for breath. Rufus whimpered in a short, breathy staccato and yanked on his binds.

“You have to take this thing out of me, Tseng,” he gasped. The plug was still vibrating inside of him. “Oh fuck…it’s too much…it’s too much.”

Tseng sat up with some difficulty, the post-coital euphoria almost dizzying in its intensity. He took the plug out and set it aside and Rufus fell back against the bed, eyes closed, humming contentedly.

“Enjoy yourself, did you?” Tseng asked, untying his binds.

Rufus grinned. “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me looking at these prompts: okay but how do I make it horny


	12. Broken Bones

“This is a bad idea,” Rude said, speaking into his headset as he carefully guided the helicopter in slow circles around Shinra Tower. With each pass, he caught sight of the Reno and the Vice President out on the roof: Reno’s bright-red hair and Rufus’ crisp white suit standing in stark contrast to the black tarmac of the helipad.

“No way, man it’s gonna look cool. Just wait for it,” Reno replied.

“The chief is gonna be pissed when he finds out about this.”

“He’s not gonna find out unless you tell him, brainiac.”

“Reno,” Rude sighed. “How long have we worked for Tseng? You really think he won’t find out?”

“Tell Rude to stop worrying so much,” Rufus said. “It’s just a little harmless fun. Good practice too. Who knows when I might have to make a daring escape from this very roof?”

Rufus was the boss, so Rude wasn’t exactly going to protest when he barged into the Turks’ office and demanded their help in executing a stunt with the helicopter. Still, it felt wrong to be out here playing games while Tseng was simultaneously running their department _and_ pulling all the strings to assist Rufus in an eventual attempt on the President’s life.

Then again, Rude understood all too well the stupid things love could make you do. Reno’s insistence was part of the reason he was even going along with this stunt.

On the tarmac, Reno was filming with his camera, ostensibly so they could watch Rufus’ moves and improve upon the little trick next time, though Rude had a feeling Rufus just wanted to be able to show off what he could do. Rufus and Reno together were a terrible combination - so much chaotic energy bouncing back and forth, egging each other on. If Tseng were here, he would have exchanged an exasperated shrug with Rude.

_These men that we love are so stupid sometimes._

“Bring the chopper up, Rude,” Rufus said.

With a sigh, Rude rounded beneath the helipad and guided the helicopter up, as close as he could get it to the edge, zooming over Rufus’ head as he reached out an arm to grab the open side door.

The trick did not quite go as planned.

Rufus gripped the door and shot up with the helicopter only to lose his grip and go tumbling back down toward the helipad. Rude shouted in surprise and a moment later heard a _thwump_ through his headset, followed by a loud,

“ _FUCK!_ ” from Reno.

“Reno!? Are you okay? Is the VP okay?” Rude cried.

“Partner?”

Rude sighed with relief. “Reno.”

“Get down here right now.”

* * *

Rude, Rufus, and Reno sat sandwiched together on the couch in Tseng’s office. Rufus’ arm was in a splint and Reno wore a cast around his leg where Rufus had slammed against it when he fell. Both Rufus and Reno hung their heads while Tseng paced in front of them, brow furrowed.

The scary thing about Tseng was he never yelled or raised his voice. He just fixed you with this look that Rude was pretty sure had turned lesser Turks to stone and said things like ‘I’m very disappointed in your behavior.’

“I’m not surprised that either of you did something so stupid,” he said to Reno and Rufus. “But I’m very disappointed in you for going along with this, Rude.”

Rude’s face warmed. “Sir…”

Tseng pursed his lips. “Shame on you, Rufus, using your position to make Rude feel like he had to help you with this ridiculous stunt.”

Rufus opened and closed his mouth several times. Tseng was maybe the only person on the entire planet with the power to silence Rufus Shinra. Reno, too, would only go quiet after a stern reprimand from Tseng.

“You can both leave. I’d like to have a conversation with the vice president alone.”

“Tseng,” Rufus pouted, gesturing with his broken arm and wincing. “I’m injured.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Reno didn’t stick around to listen to Tseng and Rufus argue. He scrambled off the couch with some difficulty and Rude was quick to help him hobble out of the office.

“You guys really are stupid,” Rude grumbled. “The VP could have been hurt a lot worse. He could have died.”

“All right, _mother_.”

Rude sighed. “We just care about you, that’s all.”

Reno nodded and slung an arm around Rude’s shoulder. “I know, I know.”

As they walked away, they heard Rufus whine and say, “Would you be less mad if I sucked your dick?” followed by an irritated huff from Tseng.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head Reno and Rufus have their own youtube channel where they do the stupidest fucking shit imaginable and in the background you hear Tseng yelling at them


	13. Breathe In, Breathe Out

If Rufus Shinra had to sit through one more meeting with his father berating every idea he presented and punctuating his verbal abuse with ‘this is why you aren’t vice president yet, boy’ he was going to kill him. In fact, it wasn’t the first time he’d considered the notion. What had once inspired self-loathing and tears now just incited rage.

He needed to cool off, so he put some distance between himself and his father and made his way to a balcony on the fifty-first floor that he knew was relatively secluded and rarely used, stepping out into the cool night air he hoped would calm him down. To his surprise, someone was already there, tucked into the corner with their legs curled up to their chest, a curtain of black hair obscuring their face as they silently shook with sobs.

“Oh,” Rufus faltered. “I’m sorry, I-”

The person looked up at him and he realized it was a Turk, though he must have been a fresh recruit because he didn’t look much older than Rufus was. He wiped his cheeks free of tears hastily and scrambled to his feet, standing tall and rigid before Rufus.

“Sir, I apologize, I shouldn’t have been out here-” His voice quavered and his eyes glistened, more tears threatening to come.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Rufus said. He scanned the other boy’s face - his skin and clothes were both spattered with blood, which had smeared into a mess where he wiped his tears away. Rufus had largely been shielded from Shinra’s shadier dealings as a child, but he knew what sort of tests a Turk had to pass to complete their training. “Was it your first kill?”

“S-sir?” the Turk’s bottom lip trembled.

“I just came out to get some fresh air,” Rufus decided a change of subject was in order. He sat down against the opposite corner of the balcony. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Oh, I…” The Turk looked down at his feet. “You’re the President’s son. I wouldn’t want to-”

“You’re not imposing if I offer. Do you have a name or should I just call you crow?”

This was a misstep. The Turk looked away, biting his lip and clearly holding back tears.

He sniffled loudly before answering. “Tseng, sir.”

“Is that your real name or the one they gave you?”

“A bit of both.” Tseng sat down reluctantly and pulled his knees back against his chest, staring at Rufus with large, frightened eyes like he was a scared stray Rufus was trying to befriend.

Well, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Did you pass or fail?”

“I passed,” Tseng sounded miserable. “Please don’t tell the chief you saw me crying. I’m sure he’d kick me out if he knew-”

Rufus laughed without meaning to. Tseng fixed him with a frown, a ferocity overtaking his sadness, and Rufus quickly corrected himself. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t making fun. You’re not the first Turk to react like this to their first kill and I’d wager Veld knows. It’s okay to feel bad about it.” Rufus wasn’t really sure where he got off dispensing such advice - it wasn’t as though he’d ever taken a life.

Tseng stared at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I did what they asked me to do. I thought it wouldn’t be hard. Or that torturing them would be the worst of it. But the sound he made when I slit his throat…” He shook his head. “And then he was just gone. And all he did was trade some information to the wrong people.”

“If you didn’t do it, someone else would have,” Rufus offered. When this didn't seem to placate him, he continued, "You could think of it like the treehuggers. Shinra's always taking from the planet. Maybe killing for us is returning some energy to the lifestream. Balancing the scales."

Tseng’s eyes flashed, “Do you really believe that?”

“Does it matter?” Rufus asked, leaning back against the railing.

Tseng’s shoulder slumped with a sigh. “I guess not.”

Rufus pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it, taking a drag before offering it to Tseng.

He stared back apprehensively. “I don’t smoke.”

“No time like the present.” Rufus offered it once more and Tseng took it from him, turning it over in his fingers. “It’s easy,” Rufus continued. “Just breathe in, then breathe out.”

Tseng took a drag, inhaling too deeply and then coughing and hacking as he exhaled. Rufus took the cigarette back and smirked.

“It gets easier,” he told Tseng, no longer really talking about the cigarette. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rufus is the only person who's ever seen Tseng cry. Also I just kind of like the idea that Rufus is the one to rub off on Tseng with the philosophy of just learning to justify his actions by any means necessary even if it's all bullshit in the end.


	14. Fire

On Friday evenings at Healen, Rude and Reno lit a bonfire in the back garden for the residents. From time to time Elena would join them, Rufus less frequently, Tseng never. Still, it was a nice way for the residents to unwind and forget for a moment that they were all suffering from a condition no one understood that had no cure. Those little moments were important and all of the Turks knew it, Reno and Rude were just better at the social aspect of running the lodge.

Rufus was having a bad night, tossing and turning in his sleep, sweat mingling with the pus from his geostigma, staining his bandaging. Tseng hovered over him anxiously, wiping sweaty strands of hair from his forehead and waiting for the moment he awoke in too much pain to sleep any longer. He always refused the pain medicine, didn’t want to take what the residents so badly needed, but Tseng would offer anyway.

Tseng resented the sound of happiness filtering in from outside, the light of the fire flickering against the walls of Rufus’ room. He knew it was necessary for others - they had to find happiness somewhere - but he had no time for such things, running the lodge, tending to Rufus, helping Elena research a cure. Why should anyone be happy when Rufus was so miserable? When Tseng was so sick at the thought of losing him? His grief over what was to come consumed him.

When Rufus awoke, as Tseng knew he would, he pushed away Tseng’s help.

“Rufus. Let me tend your bandages and get you some medicine,” Tseng said.

Coughing and wheezing, Rufus pushed him away. “Fucking leave me be,” he gasped. “I can’t…I can’t handle it right now, Tseng. You’re always there hovering over me. I never have a moment…I never-”

“No, of course,” Tseng stood up. “I understand.”

He left the room as quickly as his feet would carry him and heard Rufus sigh his name, but he didn’t return.

It was natural, his frustration. It was hardly the first time he had snapped at Tseng. So much time just the two of them while Rufus grappled with his mortality, forced to look upon Tseng’s healthy body while his withered away; it was no surprise that Rufus would from time to time want to be alone with his feelings.

That didn’t stop Tseng feeling hurt by it anyway.

By then the residents had turned in for the evening and the fire was burning down to the embers, so he stepped outside into the garden and sat in front of the dying fire and for the first time in a very long time, he cried. It didn’t feel good, not even cathartic as he hoped it might - it just made him feel raw and angry. Angry at the situation. Angry at fate. Angry at anything and everything that could handle his ire.

“You know, the old gang used to have bets that you couldn’t cry.” Reno’s voice surprised Tseng, turning a sob to a choking cough in his throat.

“Reno,” said Tseng, wiping the tears from his eyes and refusing to look back to where Reno stood behind him.

Reno came to him instead, taking a seat on the other side of the fire. “Bad night?”

“Are there good nights in this place?” Tseng scoffed.

“Could be if you let us step in once in a while. We would, you know. Gods know the two of you could probably stand a break from each other. I mean,” Reno laughed, “I get sick of Rude and we spend most of the day apart.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need help.”

“That why you’re out here crying by yourself?”

Tseng stared at him across the fire and said nothing.

“Rude could use help in the garden. It’d get you out in the sun and keep your mind off things. Get your hands dirty.”

Tseng considered that he often got his hands dirty changing Rufus’ bandages, fingers stained with the black sickness that seeped out of him, but he didn’t say as much to Reno. Maybe he could use the change of scenery. He liked working with his hands, but had never had time for any hobbies that really gave him the opportunity. For most of the last decade, all he did with his hands was destroy.

“I’d have to show you how to change the bandages-”

“You think a Turk doesn’t know how to fucking tend wounds, chief?”

Tseng sighed. “And there are days when he can’t eat solid food and-”

“He can still talk can’t he?” Reno shrugged. “I think we can handle it. Stop making excuses. It wasn’t a suggestion and we won’t take no for an answer. I know you think you don’t deserve a break. Gods, you and Rufus both going on like martyrs atoning for shit that’s done, dead and buried. Killing yourself won’t fucking fix any of it.” He stood up and patted Tseng’s shoulder as he left. “Tomorrow morning. Elena’s gonna help the boss and you’re gonna help Rude in the garden.”

Tseng would at least admit that he was stretching himself too thin and liable to break soon.

“Fine. Just one day to see how it goes.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Reno stepped inside the lodge and Tseng remained, watching the last of the fire burn itself out. He never considered that in all the time he spent caring for Rufus there might be others that wanted to care for him.

How grateful he was for that.


End file.
